Page 133 of Hunt Me

Denalia interrupted them with a cranky whimper.

“Hungry? Again?” Luka gasped. “You are a piggish little thing.”

Without hesitation, he bit his finger and held it to her lips. Greedily, she wrapped her lip around his finger and suckled.

“I can summon a wet nurse,” Ezra offered.

Luka barked a laugh, startling the child, whose arms flailed around until he tucked them back into the blanket.

“Imagine the carnage that would ensue if Matilda were to rise and find our daughter nursing from another woman. My head would be on a pike.”

Ezra smirked as he pictured the image.

“She is a hybrid. Blood shall suffice until her mother’s return.”

“Matilda will be unable to express nourishment upon her return; her body will be new,” Ezra explained.

Luka massaged his temple with his free hand when reality settled in.

“You are correct,” he replied grimly. “Perhaps I should’ve waited.”

Ezra nodded. “I believe the manner in which you turned her was a misstep. You killed her without her consent.”

“We discussed it, and she agreed—”

“At the time, she did, but did you think that maybe after giving birth and seeing her child take her first breath that her feelings changed? What would’ve been the harm to wait a few days, or a fortnight?”

Luka waved a hand, cutting his advisor off.

“Have I not suffered enough, Ezra? Must you continue to torment me?”

“Forgive me,” Ezra replied with a gentle nod of remorse.

Luka’s gaze settled on Denalia, and he swore he didn’t blink until the sun sat high in the sky.

Ezra cleared his throat from the background.

“I know you wanted me nearby, but would you like to bond with Denalia alone?”

Luka thought for a moment. No doubt, he was in a fragile state, but holding his daughter gave him more strength than he’d prepared for. His world didn’t feel like it was falling apart. She was the thin thread that needled through his heart, piecing it together.

“Please leave us.”

“Very well. I will check on you both soon.”

They were left alone; their only company was the low, smoldering fire in the stone fireplace. He held her tighter as her soft breath caressed his neck.

For a long time, he simply held her as her fingers curled around the edge of his tunic, gripping with surprising strength.

He released a trembling breath.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done to me,” he whispered.

The baby stirred, her face scrunching before she settled again.

“I lied to myself earlier when I said you favored her. Your godfather called it delusions, and he was right. You look like her,” he murmured. “The shape of your mouth; the way you furrow your brow when you sleep. You’re her twin.”

His voice cracked.